nothing like us

Chapter 53

(9:30 A.M. Paris, France)

April 17, 2018

BELLA

I didn't sleep once. Not even for half a minute. Not even a small rest to my eyes. I hadn't slept, for hours. My eyes were heavy, and as the time just kept moving, the minutes turning into hours, by the time I'd found just a sliver of my sanity back I realized it was time to go home.

Home.

Stuck on an airplane for ten hours with a man that hadn't left my thoughts.

When I left his room, I found Ricky in the hallway with a bottle in his hand. He gave me a funny look, and I know the next thing to come out of his mouth was going to be something sarcastic. He was going to try and get underneath my skin but the last thing I wanted was for Ricky's stupid sarcastic remarks. I could barely breathe, my eyes burned with the need to allow the tears I refused to let fall, slip down my cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it quickly,

"He needs help," I choked out. I couldn't say anything else, when I'd turned my back to him, I carried myself to my hotel room; my feet feeling heavy. I opened the door slowly closed it and sunk to the floor with my back to it. I set my head on the cool door, and with the empty feeling in my heart my tears spilled and didn't stop. I was in hysterics. Sitting on the floor, in this beautiful designer dress, wearing the Bieber family crest on my wrist that Patty gave to me before the gala. It was beautiful, and when I saw the engraving on it, I saw my name printed next to Bieber. Creation 2018 – and then it was left blank. Patty told me I was a part of the family, and when I saw that empty space, I saw my career evolving with Justin for years.

Was I really considering staying past the year? I couldn't imagine myself anywhere else, until now. The bracelet burned into my skin, and I tore it off my wrist and chucked it away. But even though it was gone, I felt like I'd been branded. Branded by him. Forever tied to this man. This man that has broken my heart fifty different times, scattered the pieces around,  holds some of them with him and has made it so that wherever I go, wherever I am, and whoever I'm with he will be the sole owner to every single piece of me.

I felt his hands on me, and I was melting, and then I saw in his eyes, he was completely drunk, and not in his right mind. For months he's been acting like my boss, and the one time he gets some liquor in him he finally wants to be with me. He wants to be inappropriate with me. Did he think that was romantic, that I would actually enjoy that? Enjoy having his drunken body on mine, making me feel things that I've wanted for so long. No, I wouldn't. because the next morning when we woke up, he'd be sober, married and I – heartbroken. All over again.

I sat on the floor crying for what felt like hours, and it very well could have been. Like I said. I hadn't slept once.

When the morning came in, I felt a soft knock on my door, and I prayed it wasn't him. I couldn't look him in the face, not after all of that. I discarded my dress folded it in and threw it in my suitcase. I'd never need to wear it again. When was I ever going to be in this position again, anyway?

"Hey, Bella, it's me. We're leaving soon." It was Ricky. Was he being nice to me? Actually nice? I couldn't believe it. It seemed like for a long while Ricky made it his life mission to make me feel miserable, and now as I open my door and he stands at the frame with a cup of coffee he looks much like he did that night when we were at his beach house in Malibu. Apologetic? There was no need to be. He had nothing to be sorry for.

"I'm ready," I said softly. He handed me the cup and I let the warm liquid soothe my throat. It was a dry desert; I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until now. I grabbed my suitcase and started wheeling it down the hall. I just want to go home.